


Changes

by outsideth3box



Series: Harmonic Movement [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: 1000-3000 words, Angst, Disability, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Series, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-25
Updated: 2010-03-25
Packaged: 2017-10-08 07:52:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outsideth3box/pseuds/outsideth3box
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was shocked to discover that he had, over the years, developed a sort of unconscious assumption that any injuries would lay him up for a bit, maybe send him to PT for a while, but he'd be up and back at it again in no time, long as he wasn't dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changes

**Author's Note:**

> A few people asked for some backstory for the fic [Patterns](http://archiveofourown.org/works/74348), and here it is.  
> Warning: permanent disability of major character  
> Wordcount: 1,561  
> Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit made, no infringement intended.

Getting shot in the back was a curveball for John Sheppard on a number of levels. He was shocked to discover that he had, over the years, developed a sort of unconscious assumption that any injuries would lay him up for a bit, maybe send him to PT for a while, but he'd be up and back at it again in no time, long as he wasn't dead. Permanent spinal cord damage was hard to process. Not being able to move his legs was even harder.

Lying on the infirmary bed listening to Keller explain was surreal. He felt dizzy and her voice echoed hollowly in his ears, the edges of his peripheral vision going fuzzy and gray while she talked about T10 and bone shards and nerve damage. Sheppard lay frozen, gripping tightly to the blankets and taking deep breaths, pretty sure the hole was in his chest, not his back.

The gaping sensory blankness where the lower half of his body used to be was disorienting and terrifying. He could feel the dip of the mattress where the his legs lay, a downward tilt of the surface of the bed beneath his back, but he couldn't feel his body in the dent, and kept grabbing at the rails, thinking to stop himself from sliding down the slant.

He'd honestly never really expected to survive long enough to retire from the Air Force, so actually having put in his twenty and made it through alive had been a surprise. Being medically discharged, in itself, wasn't terribly traumatic. Learning to live a non-military life was always going to be a challenge, whenever it happened.

Last few months, he'd started thinking about After, figuring out what his options were, his priorities. But he'd assumed it would be here, in some capacity. In Pegasus. He'd had fantasies about Rodney and him retiring to the South Tower, or to PX3-229, where there were gorgeous, towering waterfalls and an abandoned Ancient outpost where Rodney swore he could repair the shield, given time.

Having to leave Atlantis permanently was brutally painful. Leaving people who had become his family and the life they had built was excruciating. Knowing that leaving Atlantis meant losing any chance of ever flying again made his lungs cramp and his breath stutter and scrape in his throat.

How was he going to leave Rodney behind and survive it?

#####

While John was busy trying to wrap his brain around the word "permanent," Rodney was again throwing the mother of all conniptions in the face of the SGC's decision that John could not stay in Atlantis.

"I'll build ramps! I'll build him a goddamn antigravity chair!" McKay yelled at Woolsey, red faced and hands flying. "Let the Air Force discharge him! The SGC can give him his original job back! He still has the gene, he hasn't lost his ability to make Ancient tech roll over and beg!"

"Dr. McKay, please. Let's keep Colonel Sheppard's best interests in mind here," Woolsey protested.

"Colonel Sheppard's best interests are here in Atlantis! His _life_ is here in Atlantis!" Rodney snapped.

"Dr. McKay, we can't hire professional staff and outfit rehabilitation facilities for one man. He needs specialized equipment and exercise and physical therapy with trained professionals, and he needs it right now. We're talking about his future and his quality of life and if it's to be the best it can possibly be, waiting is not an option. The SGC will see to it that he gets the best treatment and training that is available, but he can't get it here. He has to go back to Earth." Woolsey sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "For his own sake, he has to go back."

#####

When Rodney didn't visit John that evening it was almost a relief. John was tired of being the voice of reason, tired of soothing Rodney's rage and indignation about the situation. John understood why he couldn't stay, but that didn't mean he didn't want to do some yelling of his own, maybe throw stuff around and break something. Keeping Rodney calm was just too much work when he was busy trying to slot his new life into a puzzle made completely of blue sky pieces, just out of reach.

#####

In his quarters, Rodney actually was throwing things. He'd already smashed his favorite coffee mug against the wall, scattering shards of ceramic all over the floor, and was forcibly restraining himself from following that with his laptop. How dare they? How dare they send Sheppard back to Earth after all he'd done, all he'd gone through for Atlantis and her people? He'd fought Wraith and Replicators and Genii and he'd taken that bullet _for Rodney_ and...

McKay slumped down onto his bed, head in hands. Oh god. Sheppard lay in that infirmary bed, waiting to be sent to Earth, because he'd jumped in front of a bullet for Rodney, and Rodney couldn't stop them, couldn't make them change their minds. Atlantis didn't have what John needed, and there was nothing Rodney could do about it. How was he supposed to give a damn about an Atlantis without John in it?

He clenched his eyes shut tightly against the images, but devastating memories assaulted him anyway. Running for the gate, again, from an angry, crazed populace, again, and Rodney dialing the DHD, running toward the wormhole, just steps away. John veering suddenly, giving Rodney a brutal _shove_ so that he landed in the gateroom facedown on the floor, John coming down on top of him, but lying still, so still. Teyla shouting to him not to move.

He was in the habit of obeying Teyla, since she didn't often give orders, normally preferring to phrase them as requests instead. So he lay on the gateroom floor, his heart pounding, a silent, unmoving Sheppard on top of him, waiting for the med team, wondering if he was blanketed by a dead man.

As the memory of that horrific fear swept over him, Rodney was suddenly calm. He knew what his options were, and he knew what he needed to do. John was going to go through the roof, but he would eventually accept Rodney's right to make his own choices, even though John himself seemed to have none.

Leaving Atlantis would be one of the hardest decisions of his life, but letting John go without him was unthinkable.

#####

When John overheard a conversation between a couple of the nurses that McKay had tendered his resignation, he almost blew a gasket. He sweet talked Keller until she gave in and brought him his radio, then he sicced Zelenka on Rodney to chase him to the infirmary for a _discussion_.

To Rodney's credit, he didn't even try to pretend he didn't know why John wanted to see him.

"You heard." He pulled the privacy curtain closed and dropped into the chair beside the bed, rubbing his hand over his face.

"Yes, I heard! What the hell are you thinking?" John's fury made it tough to keep his voice down.

"I'm thinking that you're more important to me than my job. That's what I'm thinking." Rodney crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head, staring at John steadily.

"Atlantis needs you. You can't leave, you're needed here."

"I'm a grown man, I can stay or go as I choose, and Atlantis will be fine. Look, John, there was always going to come a day when Atlantis would have to do without me. And this is the day. It's here. Of course, I always assumed it would be because I was dead, but I'm not. You saved me."

"So you'd still have your life, alive and well in Atlantis! That's what makes this all... makes it... if you give up Atlantis it's..."

"Giving up Atlantis is the same as being dead? Is that what you're saying, John? If we aren't here we might as well be dead? You might as well have let the bullet hit me, because my life has no meaning without Atlantis? You saved me for nothing? Going through all this for no reason? Is that it?"

"No! No... my god, no, that's... that's not..." Except it sort of was, in a convoluted way. John had been telling himself it was an acceptable trade, his injury for Rodney's life. Only John's mental picture of Rodney's life included Atlantis, and without Atlantis... there was a part of John that was asking 'what was the point'?

"It's not true, John. Not for either of us. And if you're going, I'm going. I know you have it all worked out, your stoic solitude all planned, but fuck that noise, Sheppard, You aren't alone any more."

"But won't you... won't you miss it?" John didn't think he could stand it if, on top of everything else, Rodney came to resent him for the loss of Atlantis.

Rodney stood and came to the bedside. Lifting his palms to cup John's cheeks, he leaned down and huffed fondly. "You idiot. I'd miss you so much more." He smoothed a kiss across John's lips and rested their foreheads together in a gesture that had become very familiar to them both in the past years. "Yes, I'll miss Atlantis, it would be foolish of me to suggest otherwise. But between you and the city? There's no competition."


End file.
